


all roses

by Black_Tailed_Gull (ExpatGirl)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Fanart, Femslash, Genderbending, Genderswap, Girls Kissing, Kissing, Tea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-11-29 05:12:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11433849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExpatGirl/pseuds/Black_Tailed_Gull
Summary: Yuri returns from Thailand. It's good to be home again.





	all roses

**Author's Note:**

> Always lovely to collaborate with [Berry](https://youweremyridehome.tumblr.com/)!
> 
>  **A note on names:** go with 'Yuri' rather than the more phonetic 'Yuuri', like I'd normally do, because that's how the character himself writes it. I go with 'Viktor(ia)' rather than 'Victor(ia)' and 'Makkachin' rather than 'Maccachin' because of the Slavic hard 'c' sound. YMMV, of course.

The night of Yuri’s return passes with little more than a few slow kisses. She’s lulled by the the gentle rhythm of the rain and the feeling of Viktoria’s fingers in her damp hair, until Viktoria and the rain are one, until the raw March night is suddenly warm and soft.

When she wakes, it’s dark, though at this time of year that’s no indication of what hour it actually is. Yuri briefly wishes she was still in Bangkok. She adjusts the blanket around herself and turns her head to look at Viktoria, then down at the foot of the bed where Makkachin has arranged himself, and decides she’s happy enough where she is. Yuri takes a moment to look at the subtle lustre of Viktoria’s pale shoulder, the curve of her throat, the way her hair seems to glow a little in the light filtering through a crack in the curtains. She finds it suddenly very hard to keep her hands to herself, but manages to resist the urge to touch—Viktoria had looked exhausted, now that Yuri thinks back on it through her own jetlagged haze—and slides as quietly as she can from the bed.

Viktoria’s been in the dance studio for the most of the time Yuri’s been away. Quite literally. Nearly every time Yuri called, Viktoria would either be on her way there, or just coming from there, or in the middle of practice. By Yuri’s estimation, she’d been pulling twelve to fifteen hour days. Yuri knows this is partially because she wanted to fill her time so she wouldn’t feel Yuri’s absence so keenly—Viktoria said as much, and Yuri believes her. But it’s also because Viktoria is  as ruthless and dedicated  when it comes to her own training as she is with Yuri’s, and she would have wanted to make use of the rare chance to train without distraction. Viktoria’s never been one to let pining get in the way of her work, and Yuri loves her for it.

On Monday they’ll be back on the ice. But for now they have two days, one bed, and three weeks of separation to make up for. And Viktoria has promised to do quite a lot of making up, but Yuri has her own plans on that front, too.

While Yuri ordinarily handles dinner, breakfast is usually Viktoria’s domain, and her tastes tend toward the extravagant: smoothies with twelve different nutritional powders, or buckwheat pancakes with grey pearls of caviar, or, sometimes, on weekends, stacks of crepes covered with luscious piles of fruit.

Yuri is almost never this ambitious, but Viktoria will happily eat tamagoyaki and rice four evenings in a row and enjoy it every time. Viktoria is also, she has discovered, delighted with the meatloaf recipe Yuri learned in Detroit, and will sweep Makkachin up into an impromptu dance around the living room whenever Yuri announces that she’s making it. (The secret ingredient is ketchup.)

She forgoes coffee, though she’s desperate for one, because the noise will definitely wake Makkachin, and might also wake Viktoria. Instead, she contents herself with eating an apple from the fridge and pulls out the tin of tea that Phi gave her as a thank you gift.

A few moments later, Makkachin joins her anyway, panting sleepily and enquiring about his own breakfast. Once he’s occupied with that, she takes the tea tray to the bedroom and closes the door soundlessly behind her.

Yuri places the tea tray on the side table. She kneels next to the bed, right by Viktoria’s face, and sure enough, even though she hasn’t said a word, she sees Viktoria’s eye slip open, a sliver of ice blue. It takes a moment for Viktoria to swim up from the depths of whatever dream she was having, and while she does, she murmurs something softly in what sounds like a mix of Russian and French, languages tangling together like roses.

Finally, she finds her English. “Yuri? What...what time?” She sits up, rubbing her eyes with the back of a hand, a childish movement that always undoes Yuri slightly. She catches hold of Viktoria’s wrist, and kisses her open palm.

“Time for you to wake up and have some tea,” Yuri says, when she’s done.

Viktoria tips her head back lazily and laughs, a sound smudged with sleep, though it’s clear she’s well on her way to being fully awake. “I should—” she yawns, then tries again. “I should be doing this for you, though, yes?”

“I slept for the entire plane ride,” Yuri counters, smiling as she pours the tea. “And you look like you haven’t slept in...about three weeks.”

“But…”

“Tomorrow,” Yuri promises, winking and holding out the teacup.

Viktoria accepts with no further protest, taking a deep breath of the steam curling from the surface and then a slow and careful few sips.

“Oh,” Yuri says, standing. “I forgot something.” She takes the teacup away again and sets it down.

“Hmm?”

“Good morning.” At this, Yuri leans forward and kisses her, kisses that lavish hot mouth, sweet from tea and soft from sleep, and feels the warmth radiating from under the thin fabric of Viktoria’s black camisole (the only concession she’s willing to make to the season). Viktoria reaches up, clearly intending to pull Yuri fully on top of her, but Yuri slips from her grasp. “Now, finish your tea,” she says, over her shoulder, as she darts into the bathroom.

_“Yuri!”_

But whatever Viktoria calls out after that is lost to the sound of the running tap. Yuri takes her glasses off before they can fog over completely and drags the t-shirt over her head. Her hair now appears to be panicking on top of her head, but she doesn’t bother to do anything with it.

Yuri spent the majority of her early life bathing in the hot springs. Years ago, she probably would have been disappointed at Viktoria’s bathtub. After all, it’s only big enough for two people. (And once, two very frantic people and a wet dog.) But years of tiny motel bathrooms and communal college showers have rid her of any snobbishness she might have had.

Besides. It’s not like they’ll need much space. She pours a few drops of oil into the water.

When the tub’s full and the air smells of jasmine and orange blossoms, Yuri turns off the water. She drops her underwear to the floor, then takes a deep breath and throws the door open wide.

Viktoria promptly chokes on a mouthful of tea.

Yuri’s torn between feeling triumphant and worried. The worry dissolves a few seconds later when Viktoria seems to sprout wings and crosses the bedroom before Yuri can say anything. “I hope you locked the door,” Viktoria says between kisses, as she backs Yuri into the bathroom again.

“Mm—” another series of kisses abbreviates the phrase, so she tries again. “Mm-hm.”

“Thank god.”

Her hands seem to be everywhere at once, and Yuri’s head swims a little from the combination of the flower-scented air and Viktoria’s body against hers. When she has half a second to think, she tugs at the hem of the camisole Viktoria is still wearing for some obscure, tortuous reason.

“Right,” Viktoria says, backing up a step. “Sorry.” She turns away, and Yuri watches the ripple of her back muscles as she pulls the camisole off, and feels her throat tighten.

“Okay!” Viktoria says brightly as she turns back around. Then, more concerned: “Yuri? Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I…” She doesn’t finish, instead moving forward to kiss Viktoria again, before dipping her head to press her lips against the swell of her left breast, right where she can hear of Viktoria’s heartbeat. “I just missed you.”

Above her, Viktoria makes a noise that’s half sigh and half cry, which becomes a more full-throated cry when Yuri takes her nipple into her mouth and teases it with the tip of her tongue.

“I missed you, too,” Viktoria says, a touch breathlessly, when Yuri lets go.

Yuri, encouraged by this reaction, slips her hand down the curve of Viktoria’s hip, skirting over a fading bruise, to settle it lightly between her legs. She moves her middle two fingers a fraction of an inch, and is rewarded with a shudder that runs the entire length of Viktoria’s body.  “Hmm. I can tell.”

She laughs at that, but doesn’t look at all abashed, and leans into the pressure of Yuri’s fingers.

“We really should get in the bath before it goes cold,” Yuri says, reluctantly.

Viktoria slumps, like she’s taken a hit.

“Come on,” Yuri says, shoving gently at her shoulder, and then climbing into the tub. “I want to do something nice for you.”

“You _were_ doing something nice for me.” But she steps in as well, exhaling softly as the warm water hits her skin.

“Something else nice first.” Yuri sits against the side of the tub. “Turn around.”

And so Viktoria does, and Yuri pulls her until she’s settled between her knees. She lays another kiss on the shoulder she’d spent so much time contemplating, then digs her thumbs into the spot just below the fan of Viktoria’s shoulder blades. She lets out a low curse, tipping her head back, before dropping it forward, allowing Yuri access to the nape of her neck.

Viktoria carries the world with lightness, but she still carries it. Yuri can feel the truth of this as her hands travel the length and breadth of her back. She knows how hard Viktoria works to make it look like she’s not working at all—a born genius, maybe, but one tempered by blood and sweat. In this second part, at least, they’re very alike, and Yuri feels her own muscles respond sympathetically.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to get up again,” Viktoria says, after several long, breathy minutes, as Yuri wrings out a soft white cloth and trails it across Viktoria’s skin.

“Let’s hope you can,” Yuri says, blushing in spite of herself “Otherwise I’ll have to change my plans. Now, can you, ah, can you turn around to face me?”

“Always.”

It takes some maneuvering, but eventually they manage it, and trade more long kisses, until they’re both feeling slightly drugged and giddy. Viktoria rises up from where she’s kneeling to settle herself on one knee, straddling Yuri’s thigh. She seems to shine in the late morning light, and beads of water gem her hair, where it’s begun to tumble down. Yuri realises she’s stopped what she was doing and is now just resting the wash cloth against Viktoria’s collarbone.

“You know,” Viktoria says, reaching under the water to take her hand. She brings it to her lips and kisses it, but doesn’t it go once she’s done. She twines their fingers together. “I was thinking of the night we met.”

Yuri blinks. “Uh. Oh?” She’s gotten over the embarrassment, mostly, though sometimes its ghost likes to remind her of its presence.

“Well, first I was thinking of your remarkable hip flexibility. But then I was thinking of the story I told myself about that night, because...because I was always better at stories than real life. I never had anything to say. Nothing that was of any value.”

“Viktoria…”

“But now I think if I could never tell another story for the rest of my life, I’d still have something worth saying.”

Yuri rests her hand against the high plane of Viktoria’s cheekbone, and tilts her face towards her.  “I’m glad.” The moment stretches out, punctuated by the sounds of the city waking up below them. She kisses the soft spot under Viktoria’s jaw. “Now,” she says. “I’m going to go walk the dog. Then, when I get back...” She swallows audibly, suddenly flustered by the directness of Viktoria’s gaze. The heat in her cheeks bleeds downwards.

“You’ll show me the next surprise you have planned?”

Yuri nods, failing to suppress her smile. “I know how you feel about surprises.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first concerted attempt at femslash, so I hope it's okay! 
> 
> Yes, Yuri went to Thailand to perform in an ice show. I'll leave it up to you to imagine the costuming.


End file.
